


If You Want Something Done Right...

by MrThirst



Series: Discord Drabbles [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dismemberment, Gore, Pre-Relationship, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 11:43:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10876080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrThirst/pseuds/MrThirst
Summary: Roadhog takes off Junkrat's limbs





	If You Want Something Done Right...

It was a wonder it hadn't happened sooner, if Roadhog was honest. Junkrat was always overextending himself, jumping off shit he had no business climbing in the first place. He'd fucked up his landing, lost his balance on the pile of scrap he'd thought was stable. He went down hard, sliding out of Roadhog's sight. The scream of pain told him everything he needed to know. After he finished off their would-be-attackers himself, he went to find his sorry excuse for a boss.

Junkrat was whimpering, sitting up as he tried to pull the large metal pipe out of his calf. There were jagged chunks of metal sticking out of his leg in various places, and it was a wonder he'd only been punctured in one limb-- though he was scratched and bleeding almost everywhere.

"Hold still," Roadhog grumbled, coming closer. Junkrat's pain must've kicked up his old survival instincts, because he hissed and spit as Roadhog got too close.

"I'll fuckin' blow you to pieces," he snarled, cutting his fingers as his blood made his grip slip on the metal. 

"Hold still,  _ Boss _ , and I'll get you out," Roadhog muttered again, stooping down. Junkrat opened his mouth, probably to threaten him again, but he was done listening. Without bothering to be gentle, he grabbed the pipe in one hand and yanked it free. Junkrat howled, clutching at his leg and curling tightly in on himself. Roadhog put his hand on Junkrat's chest and shoved him onto his back. Rat was on him immediately, clawing at Hog's fingers to try and get free. Ignoring that, he used his free hand to continue tugging the metal out of Junkrat's flesh. Rat howled and thrashed and tore at the hand pinning him down, but he wasn't strong enough to get away.

When he was finally done, Junkrat was panting hard, face covered in tears and snot and drool. 

"I'll gut you, fuckin' pig," Junkrat gasped, eyes unfocused. Fine. If he wanted to be a cunt about it, Roadhog stood up without giving him any Hogdrogen. He could fucking heal on his own.

Junkrat didn't heal right. Of course he didn't. He never did anything right. Roadhog really wondered if Rat's so-called treasure was worth putting up with him. He limped along, bitching all the time about the pain as if it was new to him to hurt. Roadhog didn't have any idea how the fuck he'd survived if he was so whiney every time he got a little cut up.

Then the stupid fuck had to go get his wounds infected. (Technically, it wasn't his fault, but Roadhog's patience had been stretched so far beyond his limits he was prepared to blame Rat for everything.) His leg reeked as the skin started turning colors and the meat went bad. It oozed thick, disgusting pus that did nothing to help the stench. It kept him up at night, breathing heavily and covering his mouth to keep from whimpering. The pathetic little noises grated on Roadhog's nerves even worse than his incessant talking.

Finally, one night, he couldn't take it anymore. He rolled over, pushing himself up. Rat's eyes were on him at once. He giggled, breathless and agonized.

"S-s'wrong, Hog? Havin' trouble sleeping?"

"You're fucking loud."

Junkrat's eyes flashed, but his smile stayed on his face-- twisted, humorless, crazed-- "Oh yeah? It fuckin' bothering you?"

Roadhog didn't bother to answer. He grabbed his hook and stalked over to Junkrat. Stooping down, he used his knee to press Junkrat into the ground. He grabbed the blackening ankle and tugged the dying leg up. Junkrat wriggled like a worm on a hook, trying to shove Roadhog's leg off him. Aligning the hook to Junkrat's leg, he yanked. 

It didn't pull the whole leg off at once. Blood splattered over his stomach, stained their trousers, and splashed into the dust beneath them. Rat was screaming so loudly Hog was sure all of Oz could hear him. Dropping his hook, he used his newly-emptied hand to grab Junkrat's thigh and hold it steady. Then he tore the rest of the leg off by hand and tossed it aside without caring where it landed.

So much blood was gushing out of the wound that Junkrat would definitely bleed out, bombs he'd rigged himself with set to blow them both all across the desert if Hog didn't act fast. Twisting round, he tugged off his mask and shoved it none too gently onto Junkrat's face.

"Breathe, or you'll make this worse," he ordered. Junkrat's agonized gasps drew the medicated air into his system, and his twitchy little hands grabbed at the leather to press it harder into his face. He gasped and panted, desperate lungs sucking in whatever relief they could get. Skin stretched itself across the gaping cut and sealed his leg off completely. Once Junkrat had depleted an entire canister (far more than anyone of his weight should inhale), Roadhog stuck his mask back on his own face.

"Now shut up and let me get some fucking sleep."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've been musing over this idea for ///months/// and it still isn't anything like I originally wanted it to be. I might have to try again later. But I liked it anyway! Hope you do too. Lemme know if I missed any tags!  
> mrthirst@tumblr


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